Jag Älskar Honom
by samcallaghan
Summary: E Corp's Senior Vice President of Technology always played by his own rules in the corporate world, and fsociety knows no limits. Elliot Alderson soon discovers that he is not the only one who believes in his mission to save the world. With one word, life as they know it has the potential to be permanently changed. But is all of this for the better, or can life get much worse?
1. Bonsoir

Tyrell Wellick nervously muttered to himself while running his fingers through his short hair and paced in the small living room.  
"Min elskede," Joanna's smooth voice pulled Tyrell out of his temporary stupor. "Hvad der foregår med dig?" his wife asked as she reached out her arm, slowly rising from their faux-leather couch to block his path. As she steadied his arms with her own, her wide eyes bored directly into Tyrell's crazed blue ones.

"Jag är inte sova, jag är inte äta-" Tyrell's words flowed out in his native language, although it seemed that there would be no way to tell his wife what was wrong. How could he explain something to her that he himself couldn't understand?

"-Du vil ikke sove med mig," Joanna's full red lips pouted. "Hvorfor?"

"Vet inte," the disgruntled VP said, pulling away, unable to meet his partner's gaze as he slumped to the floor in front of the couch. Usually he would cringe at the very thought of a speck of dirt on his floor and his designer suit, but clearly Tyrell was feeling far from normal. His wife sat on the couch behind him with her legs tucked beneath her body.

"Du er altid sikker på om dig selv. Så meget afhænger af din vished hvis du kommer til at gøre dette arbejde for os," Joanna harshly reprimanded her partner. Immediately Tyrell's thoughts turned to his father and the way he'd recite William Carlos Williams in broken English, then Tyrell's mind jumped back to his vision as CTO.

"Jag vet vad jag behöver göra," Tyrell blankly stated while continuing to stare at the wall.

 _What had happened? How could one afternoon meeting turn Tyrell into a mess that he himself couldn't fathom? This fsociety guy had insisted on an IRL meetup, rambling online about the risky security measures in interacting solely online, and man, this guy was nothing like Tyrell had expected him to be. Generally he avoided assumptions; they only served to form perceptions of doubt and make him uncertain of the unavoidable realities that followed, but that's not to say that Tyrell Wellick doesn't have standards._ _The two of them had finally reached an agreement. Upon meeting at the location fsociety_samsepi0l requested, Tyrell would have to initiate the conversation with a code word of his choice. After all, compromise is key when you're planning on changing the world. Tyrell made it to the nondescript underpass off an equally indistinguishable street, wearing a worn hoodie and jeans that Joanna would've burned if she knew existed._

 _"You Williams?" A monotonous voice droned from beneath a dark hoodie, shaking Tyrell from his running thoughts. The man had managed to sneak into the alley silently, or had he already been waiting for his contact to arrive?_

 _"Bonsoir, Sepiol," Tyrell discarded his Swedish accent in an attempt to keep his identity as anonymous as possible. He'd been caught off-guard by the other man's slightly husky voice and his similar appearance - the man known as Sepiol also chose to wear a hoodie, although his was darker and obscured most of his face while Tyrell wore his loosely. Tyrell considered his face to be an unreadable mask, or one of that projected false intentions, but as he saw the man across from him slowly take off his hood, not even the bright sun could aid interpreting Sam Sepiol's face._

 _If Tyrell had been caught off his guard by Sepiol's sudden apparition into the alley, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. His breath hitched audibly as an unintentional gasp escaped from his lips while he tried to conceal his surprise at the man before him. Throughout all their online interactions and planning, the senior vice president of E Corp's technology expected his ally to be a person in a similar position of power and influence, not a weather-worn dropout. While Tyrell's appearance suggested an established demeanor, Sepiol's physical surface level was no front, Tyrell felt certain about that._

 _"I've got an in at AllSafe," Sam Sepiol spoke, his voice even, the only hint of emotion shining through his eyes. Shit. No wonder he wanted to meet up; announcing a plan to bankrupt the world using one of its own large conglomerates was one thing, actually having a tangible, physical lead to implement said plan was another. "My guy has been there for a couple weeks," Sepiol continued, "and has access to the E Corp case file. Our DDoS attack is ready whenever you feel like Colby's going to be the most vulnerable."_

 _"I'd give it a few more weeks. Your work ethic is admirable, and I'm sure you of all people appreciate the notion of perfection. By waiting some more time, I can get my way into Colby's circle. He's an idiot, but that doesn't mean the rest of his acquaintances are. We don't need them hanging around and asking the wrong sort of questions. We have one shot at this, and if even one little mishap occurs, everything will be fucked."_

 _The sweat-shirted man known has Sepiol intently listened to the man he knew as Williams, his eyes never veering from the pale face before him. It was as if his fate hung on every word spoken by the executive's lips, and in a way, their destiny did depend on their collaborative scheme._

 _"Understood." Sepiol nodded, and was it possible there was a glint of something in his eyes, something that said he was secretly pleased he'd managed to get 'Williams' to agree on delaying the attack? Did Sepiol have a bigger scheme in mind than the one he was confiding to his partner in crime?_

 _"Colby should accept me before it's time to make the rounds at AllSafe again, and then I'll establish my end of the program." Wellick's eyes scanned Sepiol's as he spoke, looking for any indication of approval or disagreement, but the only emotions visible on the other man was what could only be described as encouragement and bliss, as if Sepiol had finally been united with what he had been yearning for so long. The mask he had been projecting had slowly but surely unraveled as Wellick spoke, and Tyrell couldn't help the swell of pride that rushed through him. It had been a considerable amount of time since he had felt the power of undoing someone with only a few well-placed words. I caused that, he thought, I made that man bend.  
"I have a feeling that we're meant for greatness together."_


	2. Höljd i Mysterium

w1ll13ms. Did he really believe that I wouldn't recognize him behind a screen-name, or does he really believe I am just a low-level tech who wouldn't do basic research on Evil Corp's execs? I'm good at reading people, at digging deep into their lives. Why should this man be exempt from my search process?

Tyrell Anders Wellick. Born as Hans Elias Andersson in Västra Götalands län, western Sweden. Emigrated to America a decade ago and started working at Evil Corp through the corporate chain, practically textbook. Married his Danish wife, Joanna Olafson, a couple of months ago for reasons unknown. I couldn't find any records on her, which was both surprising and not at the same time - both the surname and first name are so typical that countless documentation of various Scandinavian Joanna Olafsons exist, although nothing on this particular one, leading me to believe that she used to be called something else prior to her recently chosen designation. That's slightly troubling - what is she hiding? Who is she running from?  
What purpose does this woman serve in Wellick's life, or, conversely, why did Joanna reel the man in as her partner for life? Are they both part of something more sinister than this simple economic magic trick?

Is this some sort of international scheme intended to destroy millions rather than break a single conglomerate? Admittedly, taking down Evil Corp affects the globe, but the impact will cause - no, force people to bounce back. It'd give them a chance to prove their resiliency. Not that I'd entirely mind if the world collapsed on itself...

He seems to think that we can trust Wellick. What he sees in the overconfident, egotistical Swede we may never know, but since the important thing in any relationship is trust, and he trusts Tyrell, that's good enough for me now.  
He began showing up more frequently, around the same time that I made the decision that Evil Corp has to pay the price for their evil deeds. He strolled down Coney Island boardwalk with the autumn breeze blowing around him and not a care in the world and proceeded to lead me to a HQ I couldn't have dreamed of if I had tried.  
F SOCIETY. Technically it's the decrepit Fun Society Arcade building, however, it's a technicality we can overlook while we smirk over our work.

And did Wellick really believe me about my inside connection at AllSafe? All I got is remote access to Angela's work computer, but what Wellick doesn't know won't hurt him. Officially, I'm just a white-hat, but to me, that label doesn't matter. You got ethics; you got yourself a white-hat. You wanna justify your somewhat criminal actions; you're a grey-hat. You just want to get shit done; black-hat. Bullshit. Intentions are irrelevant. We're all trying to do the same thing, there's really no need to start penning ourselves into pastures like sheep.

There's something not quite right about this man. He agreed to an IRL meet-up with me, for starters. He agreed to meet me in a sketchy alley after we sent messages to each other about an economic revolution. Got to be something wrong with someone who does that. Obviously I had done the same thing, but you know me. Not exactly 'normal'. He tried to appear casual, yet it was clear that 'w1ll13ms' had a style, and even his faded clothing had to have once been designer. His eyes looked the way Angela used to describe my eyes after I'd smoked a joint too many - not that I'd remember during that moment - she'd tell me the next day in a text message that I'd pretend to ignore, or the next time she saw me in person. Then Angela would not so much tell me as much as pester and accost me and ask if I had known how stoned I'd previously been and what I'd done. How the fuck should I know? The whole point of being high in the first place is to be blissfully ignorant and slightly arrogant for a while; to have the ability to tune out the world and its pathetic, robotic patterns of movement we've come to accept as life.  
"Your eyes are so calm, yet sharp as glass, like they can see right through you and pierce your mind," Angela would say, "and at the same time, you're so distant, you might as well be on another planet."

Interplanetary travel, of course, is a mere myth, a story told to placate simple minds that aren't equipped to handle the truth about what 'space stations' really are. The possibility of Earth-walking creatures making vehicles to traverse the galaxy with is almost as absurd as the idea of dinosaurs. Those self-appointed scientific experts felt the need to create a name for everything, even themselves. Paleontologists are no more than a group of khaki-wearing, self-righteous assholes who need to grow up and stop acting like children.

But that discourse is for another time. Right now, the blond man with eyes that are perpetually glazed with a crazed look is the main focus. The guy suddenly appeared at Evil Corp's home base in the good ol' US of A with barely more than 50,000 krona in his pocket. If I were a federal agent, I'd be inclined to make the assessment that Tyrell Wellick inserted himself into the perfect environment for a ruse. Fortunately for the Swede, I am not with the FBI. I'm better than the bureaucrats. I know Tyrell's history and his fake one that the US government will never see through. Who would suspect a hard-working employee with nearly a decade of experience to be the one to collapse the corporation on itself? In the not so distant future, when the feds do come in to get rid of Colby, which one of them'd think that Wellick willingly offering info on the hack would be translated into anything other than honest helpfulness? No way he'd be seen as a perpetrator inserting himself into the investigation. No way anyone would ever think to look at him and connect him to me. Absolutely no physical connections between us to be found.

Yet I still cannot seem to stop itching my brain. I know that this playbook of mine contains many moves and possible endgames, still, I have this urge, this instinct, that's telling me I'm overlooking something.  
What could I possibly be missing?


	3. Usynlig Hånd

"Today's the day. You are certain that this is going to work out right? Don't make me cover for your dumb ass and step up to do _everything,_ " were the first words Tyrell heard as he woke up that morning. The sun streaming through the window had startled him awake before his alarm clock even had the chance, and evidently his nervousness had rubbed on to his wife, as she had been wide awake and pounced the instant she could to chastise him.

"I'm not incompetent," was his sneered response as he rose from their bed. "All I have to do is trail Colby around AllSafe and parade his ass all around the offices like he's hot shit while I scope out a couple of terminals. Stop talking to me like I am a child," Tyrell snapped while putting on a fresh shirt. As he found a clean, pressed pair of pants to pull on, he continued to reassure Joanna that he was capable of fulfilling his necessary duties. "I need to find Sepiol's source. Make sure he's not trying to set me-"

"-us-," she inserted fervently.

"-up to take the fall for this. De vill att vi ska tro att vi lever i en demokrati, men jag vet att vi lever i omständigheter that manipulate us. Jag håller inte med varandra - jag tycker inte om det. För första gången jag är upprörd och ready to take action and - what? Why are you looking at me like that?" Tyrell temporarily ceased his tirade when he caught a glimpse of his wife's face in one of their many mirrors.

Joanna merely cocked her head to the left and gave a little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and remained silent for a beat. "It's nothing, min elskede. Just good to see you actually ready and serious about taking action after being entranced by these thoughts for so long. Wanting to become chief technology officer and changing the world from here, the country where dreams come true... jeg er stolt af dig."

The pale man's cheeks developed a rosy tinge, unaccustomed to both the compliment and the feeling of having achieved something worth the praise. He stood, slightly thoughtless for a moment and was on the edge of making a reply when his charming wife's not-quite smile developed into a smirk filled with derision. Her perfect cherry-painted lips parted and she softly yet purposefully articulated, "Don't fuck this up."

It took all of Tyrell's self-control to not lash out in guttural fury. After all he had done for her, from saving her back in Scandinavia to working his way through the American corporate system in attempts to allow for a better life for both of them, she still had the audacity to imply that he was inadequate?  
He took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth in an attempt to calm down and block out any outside influences to his mind.

"Så mycket beror på en röd skottkärra, glaserade med regnvatten, bredvid de vita kycklingarna," Wellick muttered to himself and instantly felt more relaxed. A strange choice of mantra, but unlike most positive affirmations and mass-produced self-help catchphrases like 'I believe in myself and my abilities', 'I am in charge of my feelings', or 'I drink lots of water to fuel my healthy body'; this poem personally resonated with Tyrell.  
At first he couldn't understand varför i världen his poor father would want to learn this, of all poems, in English. Over time, William Carlos William's words became clearer. It certainly was not the most optimistic or reassuring thought to find a disposable red wheelbarrow such a relate-able figure, but Tyrell Wellick preferred that realistic turn of natural events to be more grounding than 'keep calm and carry on' would ever be.

"I'm heading out to work," Tyrell kept his voice even as he set his tie over his the nape of his neck and picked his shoes off the floor. "Jag ringer dig senare," he managed as he exited their bedroom. After a quick pause in the kitchen to grab a couple of crispbreads and finish getting dressed, Tyrell took his keys from their usual place by the door and left his home with a fluttering feeling of anticipation in his chest.

The commute gave him time to truly reflect on the actions he would be taking later in the day. Contrary to what he had told Joanna, his job for the day would include much more than simply marching Terry Colby around the AllSafe Cybersecurity agency. He had to be certain that the person in charge of E Corp's data, more specifically, in charge of Terry Colby's data, could be trusted with that information. Granted, Sam Sepiol had promised that he had someone on the account, but all the same Tyrell wasn't entirely convinced that Sepiol was the best man for the case at hand. Yes, he was incredibly skilled and obviously had a great amount of motivation and potential, but once they'd met, Tyrell was certain that there was indeed something unsettling about the man who called himself fsociety_samsepi0l.

His voice, for starters. It didn't have a fixed accent; just an amalgamation of monotonous syllables and yet, at the same time, a tone imbued with emotions. And it wasn't just Sepiol's voice that behaved in that manner. His entire demeanor was like one big juxtaposition of stoicism and melodrama. Not to mention that Sepiol had failed to mention that he was the inside man on the job. Tyrell gained access to the photo IDs of AllSafe Cybersecurity's employees following his initial meeting with Sepiol, and then again just the previous night in preparation for the day's activities.  
Sepiol's photo initially startled Tyrell. He had not thought that the man would have the means or the guts to infiltrate the company. Over the span of a few weeks, the man known to Tyrell as Sam Sepiol was known to both AllSafe and E Corp as Elliot Alderson, an engineer with a shaky moral background and a strong knowledge of the field.

As he drove into E Corp's parking lot and readied himself for the long day ahead, Tyrell once more took in a deep breath and slowly released it. He backed the car into its designated space, turned off the engine, and set a neutral yet cordial expression onto his face before he left his car.


	4. Bara En Tech

_This is the start. Time to hit the world's refresh button once and for all. I'm so fucking tired of our only options being to put our heads down or to get knocked the fuck down. I want my head up! I want to see the world for the first time, not through their eyes, not what they allow me to see, but what I want to see._

I constantly have the sense that something is deeply wrong with this world, something almost inexplicable and yet so palpable. That feeling gets to the part of my brain that screams for me to notice it - to pay more attention to the details around me and exploit them for what they truly are.

Take, for example, one of the world's largest conglomerates. Evil Corp. An organization whose business is the mass production of electronics, with a tight grip on banking and consumer finances. They currently hold close to 70% of the global consumer credit industry. 'Together we can change the world.' A slogan that is meant to convey greatness and optimism, when in reality, they're responsible for costing their employees their health and hold millions in debt to their bank. Not exactly the type of change the world needs right now. We've got enough pain as it is without needing to be worried about loans and the sketchy working conditions of others.  
And yesterday the fucking CTO of the corporation came into AllSafe Cybersecurity's headquarters in New York City.

I had told Williams a week or so earlier that I had 'an in' at the cybersecurity firm. At the time, it was just remote access to Angela Moss's computer. Since that strange encounter under the bridge, I'd managed to get hired by Gideon Goddard, the CEO of AllSafe himself. He's a fairly approachable and intelligent guy. That's saying something, considering I find most people to be irritating and thoughtless beings.

When Terry Colby and his entourage stopped by for a routine check-up on their account, I hadn't expected a blond man to subtly signal me as he entered the room. I also hadn't expected Colby to personally stop by my workstation. Was that something we'd agreed on? My memory has been... off, recently. What I can recall was hearing Gideon's voice as he tried to remain calm, even though I knew him well enough to know that he had indeed perspired a thin film of sweat beneath his sweater and that having a bunch of Evil Corp guys, not to mention the CTO tailing him, must have made him aggravated. Colby is basically Emperor Palpatine with a neon pink glow stick instead of a red lightsaber.  
All I had to do was sit back and pretend to work, but all of the sudden there was this presence behind me that wouldn't leave. The rest of the pack had gone off to explore the rest of the offices with the executives in charge of their accounts. What reason did a lone wolf have to lag behind with employee number ER28-0652?

 _It's got the potential to be the perfect inside set-up. Who would ever suspect an Evil Corp exec and an AllSafe tech of being in business together to take down the company that employed them both and provided them with wonderful wages and all that shit?_

"Tyrell Wellick. Senior Vice President, technology," the not unfamiliar man introduced himself in a slight accent with his hand out and a smirk on his face, as if he knew me or pretended to. Had we interacted in person before? Did he search me?

"I'm Elliot. Just a tech." A quiet mumble escaped my lips while I tried to avoid eye contact with this executive. I had a small hope that he'd leave me alone. No such luck.

"Don't be so humble," he had begun, and with that I was forced to hear a load of crap about how he, too, used to be a tech like me. And then he droned on and on and those eyes...have I seen them before? Maybe some place before this cozy job Angela secured for me? He finished his little speech with, "Bonsoir, Elliot."

Then he just walked off the way he came in, even though the group of assholes already moved on. Maybe he's just a confused Swede, otherwise why the fuck would he have wished me a good evening in French when it was the middle of the day in America?

 _Of course, for a man like Tyrell Wellick, saying 'god kväll' would've been too easy. No, that Swedish fish out of water had insisted upon a very specific set of rules regarding our verbal, public communications._

 _It's time. Crush Evil Corp's networks from the inside out. Crack the firewall. Put in a rootkit - linked to Terry Colby's IP address. Make it like a hydra - it will defend itself. Leave it. Disable it if you must; be a hero, but leave it. Then come back to HQ._

"Elliot? Earth to Elliot?" Just my luck, Ollie Parker had to make my confusing day even weirder. I'd forgotten that he had planned for us to get lunch together hours earlier that day. Why he thought that would change anything between us, I had no clue. I knew that Ollie considered us to have an awkward relationship, but I couldn't see why that would be an issue. So we're awkward. Not worth causing a shit fit about it.

"Ollie. Sorry about lunch." Another mumble left my mouth as I continued to hammer out routine code. I was neither sorry nor interested in his responses. I'd been stuck at Krista's office. She may be a registered psychologist but that doesn't change the fact that she is a terrible people-reader. I never should have told her about the men in black following me around the city.

But that was before he had shown up, and like hell I'd ever let something that big slip out to her.

Meetings with Krista Gordon were, in a word, uninteresting. She's qualified enough to do her job but I see absolutely no point in having me sit down on a faux-leather couch opposite her faux-emoting professional persona once a week in an attempt to convey honest emotions or honesty of any kind. Especially since I am neither honest nor capable of feeling.  
Hash and 30 milligrams of morphine daily aid in the coping of the monotonous entity that is existence. Marijuana has been constant in my world for years now; the morphine is a rather recent habit of mine. It's difficult to remember exactly how a recent this development has been, but it must be at least a couple of weeks old by now.  
I guess these were the sorts of things I was supposed to report to my mandated therapist.

The only truth I could think of divulging as I sat there was how the hell I had ended up there. I just wanted to change the world for the better and anger at a seemingly immutable system didn't get me anywhere except for fired from a decent job.

At the same time, in two words, the meetings were comfortably dull. I got the feeling that Krista had asked me before about society, but this time I had accidentally revealed too much about the side of me no one knew. First, I had acknowledged and validated her feelings. Then I had to bend the truth about my activities.

 _Between brain shrinkage, Ollie's nagging, and an unusual encounter with an Evil Corp administrator, it's a small wonder we got any work done on the DDoS designs.  
Rest. We have plenty of hard work ahead of us now. _


	5. Förnekande Av Tjänsten

In autumn, the dark night should have been a solace. It should have held its inhabitants in a welcoming embrace. Instead it was cruel and calculating, with the discordant winds blowing around the city as if they were too impatient to settle down and agree on anything together, so they had no choice but to whip around each other, whistling loudly and disrupting the cool air. The wind wasn't the only irritated thing that night.

"Yes?" Tyrell answered his phone with annoyance, wondering why anyone would be calling him at two in the morning. The person on the other end of the line spoke only a few words, but those words were enough to cause the disgruntled man to sit up with a start. He quickly and quietly exited the bedroom as he listened to what his contact said.  
"Is it absolutely necessary to send him in?" Tyrell asked his associate and received a rushed answer in response about nationwide coverage of a panic.  
"Yes, of course I'm watching the press coverage," the VP of E Corp's technology flipped on the television while his associate quickly continued to update him on the situation.  
With a calm, steady voice, Tyrell replied, "They've failed before, and they are more than welcome to fail again," before he ended the call. He stared at the wide screen in front of him for another minute, reveling in what he saw, and then moved back to the bedroom where Joanna lay half-asleep.

So what if all of E Corp's servers had methodically been taken down one by one, from IP addresses all around the world, causing their entire network to collapse on itself? Wasn't this all part of the plan? 'Give a man a bank, and he can rob the world' and all that crazy talk? Not just crazy talk anymore. Power, after all, belongs to the people who take it. There was almost no one better than Wellick to worm his way in to the power of interim CTO position and renovate E Corp's entire network to then cut Allsafe loose.  
Tyrell placed a quick call to his boss at E Corp while he got dressed and ready to meet with Terry Colby at the office. What was Tyrell going to claim when Colby would inevitably ask him why he thought it was a good idea to fly one of Allsafe's engineers out to Virginia when there was a perfectly competent tech team there? Less than half an hour later, he said the only honest, non-incriminating thing that he could say.

"To be honest, sir, I don't trust them," Tyrell's words flowed off his tongue. "Not with this."  
Unsurprisingly, Colby's reaction was fury. As the clocked ticked on, he lost thousands of dollars. Why the hell should he have had to send techs from the home base when the server farm had plenty of employees?  
"And why is that?" the Chief Technology Officer questioned his subordinate.  
After a brief pause, Tyrell once again forced himself to tell the simple truth. "Gut instinct."

Three weeks later and the file switch Alderson had made at Allsafe finally paid off. Colby was finally out of the picture, and it was time to bring a new person into the frame. Tyrell Wellick knew that by agreeing to Sepiol's terms, they'd have to work together, and when Tyrell found out Sepiol was actually Alderson, that allowed for a seamless transition of authority at E Corp.  
Or so he thought. Tyrell couldn't fathom the idea of anyone rejecting him on a proposal as grand as the one he offered to Elliot Alderson, and yet the man shot him down with, "I think I'm happy where I am". Bullshit! What did the techie in the hoodie possibly have in his life that could make him happy? Certainly not his job. E Corp's deal with Allsafe accounted for the majority of their business, and it didn't take a genius or psychologist to notice the rage that Elliot harbored towards the conglomerate. Tyrell had done reconnaissance on Elliot after he met him for the first time at Allsafe, or at least he had tried to research the engineer. The results were the same as when he had tried for the first time, after meeting the man he knew as Sepiol under a bridge - nothing. So what did a man with nothing have to lose by joining Tyrell?

Fsociety had become a focus of the public for quite a while and they continued to make headlines on a regular basis. The same could not be said about one of its leaders. Where the hell was Elliot? They had made a deal about getting all the internal shit figured out at E Corp before they would be able to break the bank and let the world reap the rewards. With a sigh, Tyrell readied himself for a day at the Steel Mountain data storage facilities and tried to ignore the nagging thought in the back of his mind that kept worrying about Alderson's safety. Just another corporate routine check-up on the systems, Tyrell thought to himself while he looped his patterned tie around his collar. Just a nice little inspection to make sure that all the data was secure in its place. With any luck, he'd also be able to meet with his foreign collaborators that day as well, in order to ready the attack from all fronts.  
Everything was going the way it was meant to be. For the man who desired to be Chief Technology Officer of a company that controlled the majority of the world's economy, the day was as close to perfect as any day could be, given the circumstances. He initially met with Steel Mountain engineers and accountants to discuss official business, and by no small act of chance found himself talking with a few unofficial business partners afterwards. All of those petty meetings will soon pay off, Tyrell thought to himself as he feigned laughter at a comment one of his associates said. With everything going well and as planned, he had almost forgotten about Elliot. Almost.


End file.
